


Glissando

by Lepidopteran (inarticulate)



Category: Tales of Destiny
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-04
Updated: 2009-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inarticulate/pseuds/Lepidopteran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you get to know someone whose voice you can't hear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glissando

Johnny's used to the unusual. He _is_ the unusual, with his desire for music and freedom above any desire for power and bloodshed. But Leon Magnus is something even more unusual, and that fascinates Johnny. He wants to write music about it.

Leon sits on the roof, far away from the edge, his legs folded and the sword cradled in his lap. Its blade is bare and gleaming, and Leon is running an oiled cloth along it more gently than Johnny cleans his instruments. Johnny remembers talking to that sword, much the same as Leon's talking to it now, in a low voice intended for no human ears.

But Leon's words are different.

"I told you to stop fussing, I'm trying-- Shut up, Chal!" A hesitation. Johnny feels a smile tug at his lips; the sword talks back to Leon in a way that Johnny never could have imagined or wanted. "That's not… It was convenient, that's all. It wasn't for you."

The one-sided conversation is getting too personal for Johnny to eavesdrop, so he clears his throat. "Mind some company?"

Leon twists around to look up at Johnny, his eyes wide and started, his body curled protectively around the sword. For a moment, Johnny is sure he's going to say no, but he relaxes and turns away again. "Do what you like."

Johnny sits down a comfortable distance. He doesn't want to intrude on Leon's personal space. The sword looks the same as it did years ago, like nothing has changed for it. _For him,_ Johnny thinks, and he watches Leon's fingers move over the sword's inset crystal like a caress. Color moves up high on Leon's cheeks; it's nothing Johnny did, so the sword must have said something. "What's he like?" Johnny asks. He keeps his voice low and gentle.

"He's an idiot," Leon says almost immediately, then pauses and looks down at the sword. Johnny wonders if it's defending itself. After a moment, Leon thrusts his jaw up and flips hair out of his face, not looking at either of them. "Whatever. He's just Chal."

Johnny considers his profile against the fading sunlight. Leon is beautiful; Johnny has known beauty before, even when it comes from teenage boys, but there's something quiet and fragile in Leon's despite the strength and competence he displays. The last time he saw the sword, all he could think of was how much blood it had shed. Now, he finds himself wondering if any of that were willing. What _do_ swords think? What does this one?

"May I?" he asks. Leon darts a sideways look at him, then nods, and Johnny reaches out to stroke two fingers along the sword's hilt. "I'm sorry, baby," is all he says, then pulls back. He doesn't want the sword back, and he doesn't want Leon to think he does, not when Leon's so protective of it. Of him.

"No," Leon blurts out unexpectedly, then freezes. "He's--" Then he looks down at the rooftop, but he's not curled so tightly around Chaltier anymore, and his hands are moving absently across the blade.

Johnny waits, but Leon doesn't say anymore. That's his cue to leave, then; he stands, brushing those same two fingers over Leon's shoulder before walking back downstairs. He looks back once to see Leon holding the sword like a stuffed bear-- or a lover-- before he descends back into the building. He can hear the music rearranging itself in his head already.


End file.
